


Trust

by liars_dance



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liars_dance/pseuds/liars_dance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Viggo has been messing about with his director in public; Sean is jealous...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

 

"Did you hear me?" Viggo asks in exasperation after another full five minutes of silence had passed by since he'd last asked the same question. "I said, are we going to talk or are you going to sulk and pout all night?" But Sean still doesn't reply, just rocks on the balls of his bare feet and Viggo watches his slightly swaying form, wondering how much his lover has had to drink already.

"Ah fuck this," Viggo mutters as the last remnants of his patience disappear. "I'm going to bed. I'm too damn old, Sean - and far too damn tired for that matter to deal with this kind of shit." 

Sean turns and glares at Viggo from across the kitchen. "I'm pissed off with you," he growls. "I'd have thought that was fucking obvious. And I've got every right to sulk and pout as you call it. But for the record, I'm not sulking _or_ pouting. I'm making some fucking tea - though you don't deserve any."

"Forget the fucking tea," Viggo snaps back. "I don't _want_ the fucking tea. I came home wanting a hug and one of your special kisses. Then I wanted a large glass of wine - and then I wanted us in bed with your legs round my shoulders. But not any more. What I want now is to know what the hell I've done wrong. Cause it's pretty damn clear I've gone and done _some_ thing wrong while I've been in the States, though I'm having a real hard time working out what that is..."

Sean slams the teapot down on the counter with a shaking hand - the beautiful nineteenth century Castleford blue and white teapot that Viggo had bought when he'd moved in - and watches helplessly as the lid flies into the air and then smashes on the kitchen floor. He takes a breath. "Don't come the fucking innocent with me, Vig," Sean replies, his voice rising. "You know what I'm on about. Cronenberg saying all that stuff about you. About you being real special - and him looking for a film he could do with you - and dreaming about you, for fuck's sake. The two of you've been smiling at each other, and touching each other - and christ knows what you've been saying about him..."

"And talking about our mutual respect for each other's craft means we're fucking in your book, does it?" Viggo asks softly, squatting down to pick up the broken pieces of china.

Sean swallows. His throat was thick and dry and his heart was beating fast - it was like some demon had possessed him. "Some folk'd think so," he mutters, trying not to think about how much money Viggo had paid for the teapot.

Viggo looks up, his fists clenching as he stares up at Sean and hardly feeling the shards of china that are piercing his skin. "That's not what I asked," he whispers. "I said _your_ book, Sean - I want to know what's in _your_ book..." 

_Trust Viggo to get right to the nub of it. But was this what he'd been thinking? Did he really think that Viggo was being unfaithful or just being Viggo? Had he ever given Sean any reason to doubt his love or commitment?_ The answers should be sounding loud and clear but they weren't so Sean stares back, unable to say anything but feeling increasingly defensive. Then he remembers that attack was supposed to be the best form of defence so he repeated his accusations. Only by now his throat was so thick with fear and anger that his voice sounded hoarse and desperate and what had started out as a half-hearted, alcohol induced moan about being alone and just a little bit jealous of a relationship he didn't quite understand, was escalating out of control. And what was more, right now Sean felt powerless to do anything about it... "What'm I supposed to think?" he asks suddenly. "You've spent more time with him than me in the last few weeks - and it's only going to get worse with Toronto coming up. And the whole world sees you touching him. You touch his face - his arm, his shoulder. And that clip they released of you with the tattoos. They were all looking at you - and touching your chest. But especially _him_... And you kiss him, Viggo. Like in Cannes a couple of years back. You're _always_ kissing him - and he's always kissing _you_. And your eyes close, for fuck's sake - like they do when I kiss you..."

Viggo swallows and slowly stands up. His body had started to shake. "I'll take that as a yes then," he whispers. By now he could feel the pain in his hand but it was nothing to the pain he could feel inside his chest. Viggo slowly unclenches his right fist and watches as blood spreads across the lines of his palm and drips over the edge of his hand. One shard of china was still sticking into the flesh at the base of his thumb and his fingertips were bleeding too. 

"You're bleeding, Vig." Sean steps forward, instinctively wanting to help but Viggo puts up his left hand, silently warding him off. 

_Don't you even think about touching me right now..._ "Funny how I never see a photo or a clip of you kissing a woman or flirting with your cast members and wonder if you're fucking them," Viggo says, his voice flat as he slowly pulls the shattered piece of fine china out of his hand. Blood wells up from the puncture wound and Viggo begins to feel a little sick - but it's wasn't because of the loss of blood; more the loss of faith. He lifts his gaze from his bleeding hand to meet pain and anguish in Sean's eyes. "Because I trusted you, Sean. Sometimes I'd feel a little jealous, sure - all those women fawning all over you; all those reports of every one of your co-stars falling for your green eyed northern charms. But it never entered my head to wonder if you were cheating on me..." _Should it have done?_ Surprising himself by the sudden thought, Viggo turns away and heads for the sink to rinse his hand under cold running water.

"You need to get some pressure on that, Viggo," Sean says urgently as he follows Viggo to the sink, alarmed by the amount of blood he can see washing down the plughole. "And there may be some bits still in there. You really should go to the hospital..." Suddenly it was like his demon had left him taking all his anger and jealousy with it. "Please - let me have a look, love."

 _Love?_ Viggo thinks, not looking at Sean as he holds his stinging hand under the cold water and wishing it would numb the pain he feels inside. _You accuse me of fucking another guy and _now_ you call me love?_

"Just get the fuck away from me, Sean," Viggo hisses. "I can sort this." _Even if I can't sort anything else..._

"I know you can," Sean whispers brokenly. "I just wanted to help, that's all."

At the change in Sean's voice, Viggo turns his head. "Yeah? Well, make some fucking tea, Sean. That's what you're good at..."

 _I trusted you, Sean... it never entered my head to wonder if you were cheating on me..._ Viggo's words ring inside Sean's head as he stands rooted to the spot at his lover's side. "But I broke the pot," he whispers. "That unique and irreplaceable pot. I broke it in anger - the worst way." Sean pauses, willing Viggo to look at him but he doesn't. "And everyone knows you can't make a decent cuppa without a china pot..."

Viggo stills his attempts to remove another fragment from his hand. He can tell Sean wasn't just talking about the Castleford blue china, but his own mind was too full of his own questions and fears to acknowledge this right now. Besides, his hand was hurting like hell. "Course you can," he mutters, not looking at Sean. "And you didn't break the pot - you broke the lid, so improvise - you're a fucking actor, aren't you? Now quit standing there watching me and go make the fucking tea..."

Sean nods wordlessly and turns away, his chest and throat full as he contemplated the possible outcome of this truly terrible evening. He'd never felt like quite as alone as he did right now - and he'd never seen Viggo like this - so cold and distant. Sean glances back towards Viggo as he finds a couple of mugs and sets about making the tea. The water was still running and Viggo's shoulders were hunched, his neck bent forward. Sean thinks about saying sorry - that he hadn't meant it, but he didn't say it. Because in a way he _had_ meant it. Viggo's relationship with Cronenberg was something Sean didn't understand - something he was jealous about - something he feared above all... Sean pours the boiling water over the teabag in each mug and then stirs the contents vigorously. Satisfied that the brew was at least drinkable he removed the teabags and added a splash of milk to each mug. _Surely I'd have known if Viggo's feelings had changed - that he was avoiding me? Hell, I know how to recognise the behaviour because I've done it meself more times than I can remember. Viggo had never given any indication that he was losing interest - far from it. But maybe he was over-compensating..._ Sean sighs - he'd done that too often in the past too...

"Sean..." The softly spoken word formed as a question interrupts Sean's ruminations and once more he turns his head. Viggo hasn't moved from the sink.

"Yeah?"

"I can't stop this bleeding..." 

"Shit," Sean mutters, abandoning his tea making and moving quickly to Viggo's side. Without hesitation, he takes Viggo's now quite cold hand and peers at it. Remembering the first aid he'd learned when the girls were small and forever doing something to themselves, Sean knows that sharp objects like glass or china could end up causing more damage coming out of the skin than they did going in. And Viggo's hand is still bleeding quite freely. Sean takes a few sheets of kitchen paper from the roll on the windowsill and folds them together before pressing it gently but firmly over the bleeding point. Viggo immediately hisses with pain and tries to pull his hand away.

"I tried doing that too but it hurts like fuck when I press down," Viggo whispers hoarsely. "I think there's another sharp bit of china in there..." 

"Sorry, Viggo - sorry," Sean murmurs. "Look, let's get you sat down first. I need a good light and me specs so I can see. C'mon, Vig." Sean turns off the tap and leads Viggo by the elbow to the kitchen table under the overhead light. He forces the memory of fucking a flour dusted Viggo spreadeagled across this very table from his mind, then collects the two mugs of tea from the counter and pushes one towards Viggo. "Just sit down there and hold the towel over the spot. And drink your tea. I'll be back in a minute." 

Viggo nods silently, closing his eyes with a sigh. All of a sudden he feels dog tired. His head aches, his throat aches, his chest aches - and his hand is stinging. All he wants is to lie down and go to sleep - and then maybe when he wakes up all this shit will have gone away. Did Sean _really_ think he and David were having an affair? Didn't he realise that it was all a bit of fun - a bit of extra publicity even? Didn't he realise that he was... 

"You alright, Viggo?" 

Sean's husky voice interrupts Viggo's thoughts and he opens his eyes. Sean had put a small first aid box and a bowl of warm water on the table. His spectacles and a magnifying glass were also on the table. "Depends on how you define alright," he replies, picking up his mug of tea with his left hand and sipping at it. "But if alright means I'm not actually bleeding to death, then the answer's yes. It seems to be stopping now..."

Sean swallows and puts on his specs. "Right... well let's get this hand sorted, yeah? I'm just going to soak your hand in warm water first to dilate the blood vessels and get some heat into the area. That makes removing any foreign body easier..." _And I don't mean Cronenberg neither,_ he adds silently, _though I wish I could remove him with a pair of tweezers..._

"I never realised you knew this stuff," Viggo murmurs, letting Sean slowly immerse his hand in the bowl of water. The warmth was soothing at first but the sting at the base of his thumb and in his fingertips soon returned.

"Necessary with three young girls in the house," Sean replies, opening the first aid box and removing the disposable tweezers from their pre-sterilised pack. "They were forever getting splinters in their hands from climbing trees and the like... Okay, let's have a look here..." Sean holds the magnifying glass over the wound on Viggo's hand and almost instantly spots the sharp end of a small piece of white china close to its upper edge. "Found it," he whispers almost to himself as he slowly moves the tweezers towards the shard. "This might hurt a bit, Vig," he murmurs, glancing up into Viggo's sad blue eyes. _But not as much as I've hurt you just now,_ he thinks as he quickly returns his attention to his task.

Viggo stares at the top of Sean's head, wanting more than anything to stroke his fingers into those long soft strands. But he doesn't. He grips his mug handle a little tighter instead. "Don't worry," Viggo whispers, his throat even thicker than before. "I - _it_ \- can't hurt any more than it does already..." 

Thankfully, the small china fragment comes out quite easily and Sean is relieved that he didn't need to dig around for it. So, after a further examination and some gentle pressure to ensure that the bleeding had stopped, he gently cleans the drying blood away and dresses the wound. And as he does so, he suddenly starts to talk - whether Viggo wants to hear him or not - trying to explain what's been going on inside his head.

"I'm sorry, Viggo - sorry about the pot, your hand - and how this evening's ended up. See - I get defensive when there's stuff going on that affects me but that I don't understand," he says quietly. "And I certainly don't understand what's going on between you and David - whether it's just a huge joke or summat else. If it's a joke, I don't want it to be at my expense - but that's how it feels. It's like I'm on the outside looking in while the two of you are having a damn good laugh."

Viggo shakes his head and sits up a little in his chair. "It's not like that. We're just horsing around. David's a very affectionate guy and he's good company too. We have a lot in common. But there's nothing going on - and there sure isn't any kind of joke directed at you. Do you really think I'd do something as hurtful as that? Jesus, Sean..."

Sean finishes fastening the bandage at Viggo's wrist and sits back too, grasping his mug of tea in his hands. 

"Mebbe not deliberately, but I'm still hurting all the same. Do you realise that you've never talked to me about him at all until just now? Not once, Viggo. You must know about all the photographs out there - all the rumours and insinuations, but you never said a word - never said that you were just messing about and winding up the press. You never told me not to worry because it were all a load of nothing. All I know is what I see and read and the longer you didn't say anything, the worse I felt. Tonight I was thinking about the two of you, wondering if you ever talk about me, and that got me a bit paranoid I suppose. I'm not good when I'm left on me own, Vig - you know that. Then I started wondering if David even knows about me - I mean, if he knows about _us_ \- if you've ever told him that we've been together these last four years... I told meself if you didn't say anything about him when you came home today, then I would, but I was a bit pissed by then..." Sean pauses and sips his tea, looking at Viggo over the top of his mug. "Thing is Viggo, you bring out the best and the worst in me. The best because when we're together I feel like there's nothing can touch us. But then I always seem to think the worst when we're apart because I'm scared I'm going to lose you. Scared that I'm not enough for you any more. Scared that he's giving you something I can't - something I mebbe never could..." 

Viggo stares back at Sean, the pain and fear clear on his lover's face. _Had he really never spoken to Sean about David? And if he hadn't, why in hell hadn't he? What kind of message was that giving? Fuck..._ "What kind of something exactly?" he asks softly, trying hard to swallow the lump that's once more formed in his throat. 

"Like you say - you've got a lot in common; probably more than we have," Sean replies. "You'll be able to talk to him about things that you can't with me. I mean, you never talk about logical positivism and existentialism with me now, do you? And mebbe he's offering excitement too. All that kissing and touching in public - making people wonder what's going on. All the things we _don't_ do because we agreed back at the start that what we have is _our_ business - and no bugger else's. I might want to tell the world sometimes that I'm in love with the most amazing man I've ever met, but truth is, the only person who _needs_ to hear me say it is you..."

"No, Sean - you've got it all wrong. It's nothing like that. I'm not looking for anything from David or anyone else that I don't already have with you - or anything that I think is missing in our relationship. Christ, over the last four years we've just got closer and closer - you're everything to me. It's _you_ I love beyond words - _you_ I think about all the time we're apart - _you_ I want to come home to when..."

"You want your bit of rough," Sean interjects, the words out in the open before he can stop them.

Feeling like he's been hit square in the chest, Viggo can barely breathe for a moment, let alone respond. "Is that really how you think I see you? That these last four years have been a lie? Because if it is, we might as well call it a day right now.."

Across the table, Sean sucks in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry," he whispers hoarsely. "Of course it's not how I think you see me - I wouldn't be still here if I did... But don't you understand, Viggo? It's how your relationship with David is making me _feel_ \- and it's eating me up inside."

For a moment there's a silence in the room as Viggo stares across the table into Sean's anguished eyes. All the anger he'd directed at Sean earlier he should have directed at himself. With a gasping breath Viggo leans forward and grasps Sean's hand with his own undamaged one. Tears sting his eyes as he tugs Sean's fingers to his lips and covers them with kisses. 

"No - it's me who's sorry, Sean," Viggo says softly, his throat thick with emotion. "I don't ever want you to feel this way - and I hate myself for being instrumental in that - that something I did or didn't say has made you hurt like this - made you _feel_ like this. And you're right - I didn't understand - I didn't see - and I should have because you're the most important person in my life. I should have talked to you about David but I didn't. We wouldn't be sitting here now if I had - we'd be wrapped around each other in bed... But I wasn't trying to hide anything from you, Sean - I need you to believe me - to trust me on this. I don't have a relationship with David. He's a friend - nothing more. It's you I love - you I want to be with; no-one else - ever. Please, Sean - believe me - I'm so sorry..." 

Sean exhales and squeezes Viggo's fingers then watches as Viggo stands up and quickly moves round to his side of the table. 

Dropping to his knees next to Sean's chair, Viggo buries his head in Sean's lap. "So fucking sorry," he whispers.

Tears well in Sean's eyes as his fingers stroke into Viggo's hair. _It's a start. I know there'll be more stuff to be said tomorrow and the next day - but not now, Viggo. Now I need summat else..._ "We're a sorry fucking pair then," he whispers huskily, grasping Viggo's head in shaking hands and lifting it up so he can see his tear stained face. "Come to bed, love. I want to taste your tears, taste your skin - then bury meself inside you, make you mine again..." 

Viggo can only nod. It seems his capacity for words had left him.

And it had still left him when Sean leads him though to the bedroom. And there were still tears in his eyes as Sean slowly stripped him of his clothes, taking great care not to hurt his bandaged hand and punctuating each garment's removal with a series of both feather light and hungry kisses. When Viggo was finally naked, Sean pushed him gently down onto the bed where he lay watching as Sean stripped off his own clothes and then approached the bed with outstretched arms. Not a word was spoken as Sean moved over Viggo, caressing, stroking, and kissing every inch of his skin as if reminding himself of something he'd thought lost. Then flipping Viggo onto his knees, Sean spread his lover's cheeks and slowly worked first his tongue and then his fingers into him - making Viggo whimper and moan and squirm against the sheets. And just when Viggo didn't think he could take any more, Sean made a low growling sound and pushed inside him, filling him and stretching him until there was nowhere left to go and Viggo found his voice with a soft breathless cry of Sean's name. Rocking together in a slow rhythm, their bodies' slick with sweat, Viggo sighed out breath after breath until Sean's fingers wrapped around his aching cock. Moments later, filled with Sean and a pulsing heat, Viggo closes his eyes tight and comes without a sound.

Later...

Spooned up behind Viggo, Sean sighs and presses his lips to the damp skin at the base of his lover's neck. "I've been thinking about this naked fight scene. I'm not sure I like the thought of all of you being on display for the world and his wife to ogle at... Was it really necessary?"

"Yeah - for the plot, I think it was," Viggo murmurs sleepily. "Well, put it this way, it's more appropriate - if not actually necessary - for a character to be caught naked in a bathhouse than outside in the arctic, but whatever floats your boat, I suppose."

Sean snorts and nips Viggo's earlobe with his teeth. "Alright, clever shite - point taken. _Fuck_ , but it were cold, though - nearly froze me bollocks off."

Viggo chuckles and turns in Sean's arms, snuggling close and tucking his head under Sean's chin with a sleepy, sated sigh. "I bet it did."

A few moments pass then Sean sighs. 

Viggo tenses and looks up. "What? What is it?" 

"I can't believe I broke the Castleford pot. I'm sorry, Vig." 

"Don't, Sean," Viggo murmurs, stroking Sean's cheek with his bandaged fingers. "It was my fault - I made you break it..."

"No, you didn't. It was me who slammed it down on the counter. We'd had it four years, Vig - four years without so much as a chip or a crack - and now this..."

Viggo swallows. "I know, love," he whispers. "And four damn good years too. But the pot itself is still intact - it's just the lid that was broken. We'll replace it with a different lid - a stronger lid. It'll be even better - you'll see." 

"You really think so?"

"Absolutely. It'll be sound, strong and made to last. It'll last forever if we both take care of it." Viggo kisses Sean's cheek and then tucks his head back under his lover's chin.

Sean inhales deeply and then breathes out, resting his cheek on the top of Viggo's head. "Then that's what we'll do," he whispers, hugging Viggo tight. "Cause we need a china pot to make the best cup of tea..."

\-- END -- 


End file.
